by Alexa Riley
The Runaway Mail-Order Bride
Alexa Riley
Copyright © 2017 by Author Alexa Riley LLC. All rights reserved.
No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law. For permission requests, email to [email protected]
http://alexariley.com/
Publisher’s Note: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are a product of the author’s imagination. Locales and public names are sometimes used for atmospheric purposes. Any resemblance to actual people, living or dead, or to businesses, companies, events, institutions, or locales is completely coincidental.
Edited by Aquila Editing
Cover Designer: Mayhem Cover Creations
Contents
The Runaway Mail-Order Bride
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Epilogue
Epilogue
Epilogue
Epilogue
Lassoing the Virgin Mail-Order Bride
Chapter 1
Also by Alexa Riley
Stalk the Author
The Runaway Mail-Order Bride
by Alexa Riley
Willow Adams has been left with no choice. She’s run away from home and straight to a mail-order bride agency. She has no idea what to expect, but never in her wildest dreams did she anticipate him.
Dane York needs a marriage of convenience. He doesn’t have time to date, but he needs to have a certain image for his company, and some things are expected. Everything is perfectly planned out… That is, until he lays eyes on his new bride.
Warning: This classic trope is made to order with an obsessed billionaire and an innocent blushing bride. Grab your cozy socks and cuddle up with this ridiculously sweet novella.
To Ruby, Ella, and Kati…
Thank you for your incredible friendship.
Chapter 1
Willow
I wring my hands together as I wait for Bebe to get here. I know I’ve only been here for a few minutes but it feels like forever. It’s always does when I stay in one place too long. Irrational thoughts begin to flood my mind and all I can think is the more I stand still, the closer he gets to me. I clench the bag on my arm. It’s filled to the brim with all I could carry, and the weight of it is starting to make my shoulder ache.
“Will!” I turn to see Bebe running toward me. She almost knocks me over when she wraps me in a warm, tight hug. I want to cry as I do the same, knowing this might be the last time I see my best friend for a very long time. If ever again. Who knows how long he’ll chase me.
Bebe and I haven’t gone a day without talking since her family moved next door to mine in the second grade.
“God, I’ve been so worried.” I hear the tremble in her voice and I hate that I have brought this nightmare into her life. “I want to kill him.” She squeezes me even tighter.
We hold each other for a second, and then I look around as I cling to her. “Are you sure you weren’t followed?”
“Promise. I snuck out the side door when I left work today and took the bus instead of my car.”
I let out a sigh of relief at her words. I’m so close to getting away that I can almost taste it. I just didn’t expect it to be bittersweet.
I pull back and look at her. Her blue eyes are watering and I know she’s fighting tears and doesn’t want to upset me. I’m doing the same thing, though I’m not sure I have any tears left in me. I’ve cried them all out this past week on cheap rent-by-the-hour hotel room pillows. They’re the only places that will let me rent a room without asking for ID.
“How are my mom and dad doing?” I ask. Guilt weighs heavy inside me at the thought. My dad lost his job because of me.
“They’re fine, Willow. Your dad got unemployment and I’m sure he’ll find work soon. You know that doesn’t even matter. They only worry about you.”
I nod, knowing she’s right, but it still hurts. “Has he bothered you any more?” I ask, and wait. She hesitates for a moment. “Bebe.” I grab her hand and squeeze it. “Tell me. I need to know,” I plead with her.
She licks her lips before sighing heavily. “Yeah, he pulled me over last night on my way home. Asked where you were. I told him I didn’t know, because I didn’t.” Her last words are laced with irritation. I didn’t tell anyone where I was. I thought the fewer people who knew, the better. That maybe he’d leave my friends and family alone, but it isn’t working.
He seems to be growing madder each day that he can’t find me. The downside to that is I’m quickly running out of money. I drained all my accounts and maxed out my credit cards to get out as much money as I could. This is my last hope. It’s my final play, and it has to work or I fear I’ll fall into his hands. Or worse, I’ll hand myself over so he’ll leave the people I love alone. My family would fight that, but that’s not what I want. They’d fight so hard they’d end up getting hurt in the process. It’s best I leave. He has to know I’m gone so he’ll leave them be.
“What else?” I push, wanting more. I can tell there’s more with how she’s shifting on her feet.
“He said young girls like me shouldn’t be out late at night on their own. Terrible things could happen to them.”
I close my eyes. Yeah, I know what kind of terrible things Ben is capable of. I seem to be the only one, though. Bebe and my family know only because no one believed me when I tried to report him. Everyone loves Sheriff Bennett Campton. So much so that when I told my story everyone turned a blind eye. In fact, they thought I was a liar who was trying to get back at Ben after he dumped me. I still can’t believe I dated him for a month before I saw who he really was—the man who hides behind his badge.
I was like the rest of them, too, at first. I worked at the daycare down the street from the police station. It was where all the police officers brought their kids. Sheriff Bennett came around a lot because he knew all the men. The police force was like a family.
I loved my job, and when Ben asked me out one day everyone pushed me to say yes. All the other women at the daycare I worked with said he was a catch. He was sweet and handsome, they said, and I thought so, too.
We went on a lot of dates, but for some reason I could never get past kissing him. He’d said all the right things, did all the right stuff, but when his lips met mine something felt wrong.
Then he started pushing for more. He would try to go further than I wanted to, and he began being more forceful each time we were together. His hands would wander and I grew more and more uncomfortable when I was around him. I tried to break it off, but he laughed like I was joking. He kept coming to my work, calling, showing up at my parents’ house when I was there visiting. He would act like I invited him. He was everywhere I went, and I swear a few times I woke up in the middle of the night and thought he’d been in my apartment.
Then finally one day my dad told him to leave me alone. Ben lost it. He never hit me but was always really forceful. He was bigger than me, and I knew if I said or did the wrong thing, he could easily overpower me. It wasn’t just abuse, it was intimidation. I’d been lucky to get away the few times he’d cornered me, but I knew it was only a matter of time before he finally got me where he wanted me. Then, when he finally snapped, I didn’t have a
choice but to run away.
“I’m so sorry I got you mixed up in this, Bebe.”
“Don’t you say that,” Bebe snaps at me. “He’s a prick and you did nothing to bring this on yourself. Everyone else in this community is at fault. No one is doing their job—protecting you. They’re letting him rip you apart. He’ll keep doing it until you crawl back to him. I know that’s what he’s trying to do.”
“I know it is,” I agree, letting out a deep breath.
After I made the report at the police station no one would talk to me. Not even at work. Eventually they fired me. Somehow he got my father fired from his manager job at the car dealership. He’s been there over twenty years. He convinced everyone I was mad he broke it off with me. Ben even told me if I came back to him he’d tell everyone we made up. That we were getting married. That made me want to vomit.
“I’ve come up with a plan,” I tell her.
“I figured as much.” Bebe pulls out her driver’s license.
I take it from her. Bebe and I look a lot alike. People often think we’re cousins or even sisters. We both have pale skin, blue eyes, and blonde hair. Where mine is straight, hers is curly. But she straightened it today like I’d asked her. The main difference between us is shape, which doesn’t matter. All that matters is the picture on the driver’s license.
“You got an extra ID, right?” she asks as I hand her mine. I nod yes at her. Her ID is only for traveling. I’ll need my real one when I get married so it’s legal.
“Okay. So I need you to go to the airport and book a flight somewhere. I don’t care where. But not too far because you need to be back to work on Monday.” She shakes her head in understanding. “You’re going to have to take a bus back home. Book the flight in my name. When you land, get a cab to the train station and get back here as fast as possible. Only cash.” I reach into my pocket, pulling out the only money I have left and I try to hand it to her. “He’ll think I went wherever you fly to. Then maybe he’ll leave you alone.”
She pushes the money back at me. “I have money, Willow. Keep it. You might need it.”
I put it back into my pocket, knowing there’s no point fighting with her.
“Where are you going?” she asks me.
I shake my head. I can’t tell her. It’s too dangerous.
She closes her eyes and a tear slips out. I wipe it away.
“I have a plan and I’m going to be okay. I’m going somewhere safe. I’ll reach out to you when I can.”
She grabs me, pulling me into another hug. I wrap around her as tight as I can. “I love you,” I tell her.
“I love you, too. Come back to us.”
I nod and pray I’m not lying.
Chapter 2
Willow
I sit on the bus, looking out the window and watching the world pass me by. I hope I’m not running from one devil’s hands to another. At least this way I know my family and friends are safe from Ben. If I’m running into another mess it will be one I only have to take on alone.
I pull out the papers that I printed at the library and look over them again. I can’t believe I’m agreeing to get married to a man I’ve never met. I don’t even know his real name yet.
I was shocked when I ran across the mail-order bride agency. Even more shocked at how fast I was approved and picked by someone. The man who picked me wouldn’t tell me who he was until I consented and signed a nondisclosure agreement. I almost backed out until I read that the man who picked me wanted a marriage in name only, and it wouldn’t be forever. Five years of marriage is all he asked for. It was odd, but I could do that. It almost seemed too perfect to be true. Ben would forget about me after five years. Right? I could go home one day. I just had to get through the next five years. There was even a payout arranged at the end of the marriage.
I don’t care about the money. I only want somewhere to hide. To make sure the people I love stay safe. I just want to be able to sleep again. To lay my head down at night and not fear what’s coming. To not sleep in a hotel that’s nearly as scary as the thought of Ben finding me.
I close my eyes now, thinking about the last month. I don’t think I’ve slept more than two hours at a time. I’ve been on edge, and it’s wearing me down. My body is heavy as I let myself sink into the seat.
“Ma’am,” I hear someone say, jolting me awake. My eyes fly open and I see a man standing over me. “We’re here.” I glance around the bus to see everyone is gone and I’m sitting all alone.
“Sorry,” I say, grabbing my bag. I shuffle past him and off the bus. A giant sign reads Welcome to St. Louis, Missouri in gaudy colors.
I rub my eyes, trying to clear my mind. I thought getting some space from home would help, but my stomach feels as sick as ever. I’ve never left home before. Heck, I’ve never even left my state before.
“Miss?” I turn to see a man in a suit. He’s tall and thin. His dark hair is dusted with gray and his smile is nice and welcoming. “Willow Adams?” he asks, and I nod. He looks down at the paper in his hand. Then back up at me. I must match the picture he has. The one I’d sent to the agency. “This way.” He motions toward a black sedan. “I’m Jason Caswell, Mr. York’s driver,” he tells me as he opens the back door to the sedan. I slip inside and he shuts the door before going around and getting into the driver’s seat. I buckle up as we take off. “It’s about a twenty-minute ride. We are going to the penthouse today,” he says smoothly. It makes me wonder how many homes Mr. York has.
I sit and look at the city as it flies by. I admire the Arch as we drive by, and I wonder if I’ll get a chance to visit it. This is going to be my home for at least the next five years. I have no idea what my day-to-day is going to be like.
“You have a good view of it from the penthouse,” Mr. Caswell tells me, catching me staring at the St. Louis Arch. He smiles at me in the rearview mirror and I smile back. “This is going to be interesting,” I hear him say, shaking his head. He smiles even bigger.
I begin to ask him what he means but see we are pulling up to what looks like a hotel. Mr. Caswell hops out and comes around to open my door, then takes my bag from me.
“Thank you, Mr. Caswell.”
“Call me Jason,” he corrects.
“Thank you, Jason,” I say, feeling in over my head. What kind of guy has a full-time driver?
He gives me that smile again. It’s so kind that it makes me feel like everything is going to be okay. This sweet man wouldn’t be leading me to the devil. Or, at least, I hope not, but my judgment has been off with people before. Obviously.
We walk into the building and I can see it’s a hotel. “He owns it,” Jason says, answering my unasked question. He leads me to a private elevator that’s off to the side and slides in a key. When it opens I step in and Jason follows behind me. He pushes the button for the penthouse—the only button on the panel.
The elevator moves, my heart starts to race. I’m totally out of my depth here. Am I about to meet the man I’m going to be spending the next five years with?
When the elevator stops, the doors slide open revealing another man in a suit.
This guy is dressed sharp and I feel out of place in my navy and blue polka-dot dress and plain white sneakers. Maybe I should have changed in the bus station bathroom. I didn’t even think about what I looked like. I’ve just spent twenty hours on a bus. I’m sure my hair’s a mess and I don’t have a drop of makeup on.
“This way,” he barks and starts walking.
I glance back to Jason. He nods for me to follow the man, so I do. I have to jog to catch up to him. When I do, I see he’s only a few inches taller than me, which isn’t saying much. He leads me into an office where a woman in a white coat is sitting with a medical bag. He takes a seat behind an expansive desk. The chair he’s in is too big for him and makes him look like a child. It looks like it belongs to someone much bigger.
As I look around I realize the whole office is enormous. Everything is made of rich dark wood and a larg
e fire is roaring in the fireplace. Monitors line one wall, but all the screens are blank.
I was told my husband was thirty-five, but this man looks to be in his late forties and is balding. His chubby hand reaches for a folder and he carefully maneuvers it toward him. It’s as if he doesn’t want to touch me. I glance at the woman, who’s either a nurse or a doctor, but she says nothing while sitting as still as a statue. Her blonde hair is pinned up, and if she didn’t blink I would think she was a robot.
“You’ll be marrying Dane York,” the man tells me, studying my face. I think he’s waiting for a reaction, but I have no idea who Dane York is.
“Okay.”
He narrows his eyes on me. I bite my lip, unsure of what else I’m supposed to say. The information I’ve been given isn’t much.
“This marriage is in name only, but when others are around you are to be the doting, loving wife. When Mr. York requires your presence, you are to present yourself and Mr. York in the best possible light.”
I nod. Easy enough. I don’t know why he needs a fake wife, but okay.
“Mr. York is a busy man. You do not bother him unless absolutely necessary. If he needs you, he will call for you. This is why he needs a…um, pseudo wife. He doesn’t have time for women. Especially ones who throw themselves at him at events, or the ones his mother is always trying to set him up with.”
“I can do that,” I tell him.
His eyes run over me. “I think you can. You won’t be a distraction.”
